t this spectacle with a sentiment of unavailing and impotent anger; not a feature of her pensive face altered its ordinary expression。
“Hardened girl!” exclaimed Miss Scatcherd; “nothing can correct you of your slatternly habits: carry the rod away。”
Burns obeyed: I looked at her narrowly as she emerged from the book…closet; she was just putting back her handkerchief into her pocket; and the trace of a tear glistened on her thin cheek。
The play…hour in the evening I thought the pleasantest fraction of the day at Lowood: the bit of bread; the draught of coffee swallowed at five o’clock had revived vitality; if it had not satisfied hunger: the long restraint of the day was slackened; the schoolroom felt warmer than in the morning—its fires being allowed to burn a little more brightly; to supply; in some measure; the place of candles; not yet introduced: the ruddy gloaming; the licensed uproar; the confusion of many voices gave one a wele sense of liberty。
On the evening of the day on which I had seen Miss Scatcherd flog her pupil; Burns; I wandered as usual among the forms and tables and laughing groups without a panion; yet not feeling lonely: when I passed the windows; I now and then lifted a blind; and looked out; it snowed fast; a drift was already forming against the lower panes; putting my ear close to the window; I could distinguish from the gleeful tumult within; the disconsolate moan of the wind outside。
Probably; if I had lately left